A Little Fall Of Rain
by PlonkerOnDaLoose
Summary: Across the battlefield, Rogue and Pyro share a last moment. A thoroughly wet RYRO one-shot.


_Salvete amici!_ (just exercising my Latin there, as you do) I wrote this fic a few months ago when I was rehearsing for _Les Mis_ and my brain was so overloaded with the amazingness of the musical I just had to bang something out. Now fear not, stout yeomen, there is no singing in this fic, though you might want to check out the song it's based on (_A Little Fall of Rain _from _Les Mis_) if you haven't already heard it. Just for, you know, further insight.

Beta'd by the amazing _**aiRo25

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**A Little Fall of Rain**

...

_There's things I might have said, only wish I could  
Now I'm leaking life faster than I'm leaking blood  
_'The One I Love' – David Gray

It shouldn't be like this. Not like this.

All around Rogue was blood and screaming and fire and death. The Professor was dead, Magneto was dead, everyone was dead – yet they were still fighting, always fighting. Eternal as hate, rain poured down as Rogue crept across the haunted battlefield, her ears ringing from explosions. Battered and bruised, she could barely move. Hiding behind a burnout car, she scanned the battlefield for a friend. A foe. Anyone left alive.

And that was when she saw him, sitting against the next barricade. Just sitting there, watching the rain. Under different circumstances, Rogue would have relished the opportunity to sit back and enjoy the feeling of cool rain against her skin. It was … forgiving. Cleansing. There was something about it, something clean and fresh and free. Just like in _The Lion King_ when the Great Rains came and washed away all of Scar's evil, filling the dry rivers and spreading a new lease of life across the land. Nothing like a little fall of rain to make the flowers grow.

But not today.

Gathering up all the courage she had left, Rogue forced herself to her feet. She threw her arms up over her head and sprinted, flat-out, to the next blockade. A missile screeched over her head and she flung herself to the ground, skidding through the mud-blood slush behind the barricade of burnt-out cars. Ignoring the pain of impact, she crawled to John's side. There were no good guys and bad guys anymore. Just dead guys and alive guys. Just guys, just people, tired of killing other people.

His face was a ghostly white under the red moon.

"Pyro?" she whispered. "Are ya okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah … fine." His voice was cracked and dry.

Rogue nodded. "Okay … Okay." She spotted his lighter lying a foot to her left. She snatched it up, wiping away the grime. "Here. This is ya'rs." She held it out to him. An olive branch.

John lifted his hand from his side to take it. His hand was shaking badly. Rogue caught it and slapped the little silver lighter into his palm. "Oh God," she gasped. His hand was covered in blood, hot and wet. "John. Ya're hurt." She stared at him, open-mouthed. He stared back at her, an oddly vague look on his face. "Ya need help." She pulled open his jacket and exposed the gaping hole in his side. Everywhere was red. Choking back a sob, she used her sleeve to try and staunch the blood flow. John's hand found her wrist.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head.

_[Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius__]_

"But– " Rogue protested. "But."

"Don't worry. I don't feel any pain."

Rogue snorted. "Don't be stupid, Johnny. Ya're bleedin'. C'mon." She dragged on his arm and slung it over her shoulder, ready to pull him to his feet. "We'll find Hank. He'll fix ya up. Let's get ya outta this rain."

John chuckled, a soft gurgling sound. "Silly Roguie," he murmured. "A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." His fingers slipped down her wrist and over her palm, interlinking with her own. He squeezed her hand tight. "You're here. That's all I need to know."

_[And you will keep me safe. And you will keep me close. And rain will make the flowers grow]_

Rogue clapped her hand over his, clinging to him like a drowning man. Beneath the warm slick of blood, his skin was cold. Rogue pressed her lips tight together, a barrier against the wave of hopelessness welling up inside her. "Ah'm an X-Men, John. It's mah job to save people."

Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth, some garnish travesty of the children they once were.

"Let me save ya," she pleaded.

"Your job is to save the world from people like me," he breathed, inhaling sharply as she felt the area around the wound. Blood washed, hot and red, over her hands. Her eyes met John's. "There's nothing you can do for me now."

"Ah can get the bullet out," she said determinedly. Desperately. She thought of her knife – only to remember she had left it buried in another faceless enemy. "Ya're gonna to live through this Johnny, ya hear me? Ah'm gonna get ya through this."

_[If I could close your wounds with words of love]_

"Please, Rogue," John whispered. He rolled to one side, coughing blood. Rogue caught him in her arms and pulled him to her. She cradled him broken body like a little girl rocks her ragdoll, his head resting in her lap. A true smile ghosted across his red lips. "Just hold me now. Let it be."

_[Shelter me. Comfort me]_

_[You would live one hundred years if I could show you how]_

"Ah won't desert ya now," she vowed fiercely, every word sending poison through her heart.

"The rain can't hurt me now."

"Shhhh," Rogue whispered, her voice racked with dry sobs. She smoothed his damp hair back from his forehead. Rain splattered his face, diluting the blood, washing rust down his white skin. "Ssshhh. It's gonna be okay."

_[This rain will wash away what's past_]

John lifted his arm to the stars, his bloodied fingers dancing through the rain. "I never liked the rain, you know." His voice was a mess, all slurs and gurgles. But Rogue could understand everything. "It's wet. Cold … This is different. Magic rain. Because it brought you. To me. And it's all becoming clear again. I'm okay, I'm near you … I've come home." John's breathing was heavy. "Promise me … Promise you'll keep me safe … And you'll keep me close. You'll hold me …"

Rogue nodded rapidly, up and down, up and down. "Yes, yes. Anythin'."

John's eyes slid closed and he fell back against her chest. "I'll sleep in your embrace at last."

"Please, Johnny." She heard the desperation in her own voice. The water running down her face was not rain. "Please."

His eyes flickered open. Rogue always thought he had such beautiful eyes. Bonfires under the ocean. But the fire was dying, drowning. Like a candle in the rain. He touched his hand to her face, wiping away a tear with a clumsy brush of his thumb. He left behind a bloody handprint, a ghost, but the rain stole it away. "The rain can't hurt me now."

She grabbed his hand, holding like her last anchor on reality. "Ah'm here, Johnny," she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of the truth. "Ah'm here."

"That's all … I need to know."

_[Hush-a-bye, dear Eponine. You won't feel any pain. And I will keep you safe. And I will keep you close]_

Rogue clutched him to her, rocking backwards and forwards, pressing her cheek against his forehead, his cheek, his other cheek. He coughed and blood sprayed from his lips. Tenderly, she wiped them clean. Rain clung to his eyelashes, glistening like diamonds, so beautiful but so worthless when compared to human life. "I will stay with you," she promised. "Till ya're sleepin'."

John shuddered. His breath was running short. He opened his mouth to catch the rain. "And rain …"

"Rain," Rogue choked out, a desolate echo.

"Will make the flowers …"

"Will make the flowers."

He breathed in and he didn't breathe out.

_[Grow]_

And then there was a void, a space, an empty black hole once filled by a boy, as furious and fragile as a newborn flame. Rogue had loved John Allerdyce, and now he was gone.

When she finally kissed him, the blood was still warm, but John's lips were icy cold.

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Well? What did you think? I'm really looking for some feedback because I'm thinking of writing a kind of X-Men version of _Les Mis_ where all the characters are X-Men. For example, in this fic Rouge was Marius and John was Eponine … though for the real thing I'd put males in the male roles and females in the female role. Yeah, so, feedback would be great, even if that's just to tell me combining Mutants and iconic French literature is sacrilegious.

Cheers, Plonksie


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